And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

Death most resembles a prophet who is without honor in his own land or a poet who is a stranger among his people.

No man can reveal to you nothing but that which already lies half-asleep in the dawning of your knowledge.

Should you care to write (and only the saints know why you should) you must needs have knowledge and art and magic - the knowledge of the music of words, the art of being artless, and the magic of loving your readers.